An End to Estrangement - A Pride and Prejudice Variation

Part 30

Mary did not often enjoy being in a room so crowded with people. This evening was different, however, for she had both a plan and a purpose. She skirted the piano, glancing longingly at its black and white keys, and promising silently that she would return to it later. The promise of music was enough to keep her committed to her task and she glanced around the room, feigning nonchalance but, in truth, seeking out her quarry. Mr Darcy was over in one corner with Mr Egerton, and Mary felt a strange jolt at seeing him again. He really was rather handsome. She had not noticed that before, and the way he spoke so fervently with Mr Darcy made her yearn to join them, to somehow be part of their conversation. She coloured at her presumption and focused her attention on Elizabeth, who had entered the room on Mr Collins's arm. He seemed entirely delighted with this turn of events, and Elizabeth surely did not mind it, or she would have refused. If there was one thing her sister was not, it was a doormat. If she did not wish to enter a room on Mr Collins arm, she would not have done.

Mary tilted her head to one side, wondering if she had misread Lizzy's reactions before now. Perhaps she did not care for Mr Darcy. Perhaps there was no obstacle at all to her marrying Mr Collins if she wished to.

This, then, was the sticking point. If Lizzy wished to. She could not imagine her clever, contradictory sister ever being happy with a quiet life in a humble parsonage, however amiable her husband. Lizzy deserved more than mere amiability in a husband.

"You must be Mary!"

A young lady had bounded up to her so suddenly that Mary gasped, clutching mutely at her throat.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to frighten you!" The young lady's laughter faltered when she saw Mary's expression. "Oh dear! I did, though, didn't I? Here, shall we sit down?"

She led Mary gently to a chair and Mary, busily sorting some sense from her jumbled thoughts, sank gratefully down.

"I wasn't sure if you would remember me. Well, recognise me, I suppose is more accurate, because we didn't actually meet..."

The young lady chattered on and Mary nodded, feeling a nagging sense that she did recognise her after all, if only she could recall from where.

"...Sally Egerton," the young lady finished in a rush. "You met my brother at the Meryton assembly." She smiled widely, her cheeks dimpling. "In fact, you were particularly kind to him at the assembly, and that's why I knew I wanted to meet you and know you myself." Her voice dropped and she leaned a little closer to Mary, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper. "People are not always so kind to him, you know, especially young ladies. Oh, they are sympathetic, but between you and me he rather despises pity." She sighed. "It does him no favours, for he comes across as bad-tempered and then people are unwilling to spend more than only the most fleeting moments with him." She smiled again. "Not you, though. Tell me, did he bore you with his expositions on dancing?"

"N-no," Mary said, at last, struggling to keep up with the rapid jumping of Miss Sally Egerton's mind, and the musical lilt of her words. "No, I fear the opposite is more likely." She smiled, self-deprecatingly. "I am quite sure he did not intend to spend the evening listening to me lecture about music in far more detail than he cared to hear."

"Nonsense!" Sally declared, reaching for Mary's hand and clenching it warmly. "Do you know, he has scarcely stopped speaking of you since that evening! Mary - do you mind if I call you Mary? You must call me Sally, too, for we are to be great friends, you and I. I have decided it!"

This was impossible not to like, and Mary, who had few friends and even fewer as lively and animated as Miss Sally seemed to be, smiled in spite of herself.

"Well, I am certainly not about to say no to so charming a suggestion. Do you and your brother intend to remain long in Hertfordshire?"

Sally nodded, her smile growing.

"In fact, we are trying to persuade my other sister to join us here soon. She has -" Her voice hitched, and she looked momentarily concerned. "She has not been well of late. Oh, nothing so very serious." She brightened, but Mary thought that there was a very good chance that this was for her benefit, and not necessarily entirely truthful. "She rallies. But I feel - and Sidney agrees with me - that she will rally all the quicker here in Hertfordshire rather than stuck in poky old London. Don't you think?"

Mary's smile remained fixed, but she offered no other answer. She could not ever recall hearing London referred to as "poky" and, having visited the great city once or twice herself would certainly never dream of applying such a word to it. She had found the entire place overwhelming, despite her aunt and uncle's attempts to make her feel at home, and were it not for the great concert halls she would have quite happily forsaken it entirely. She could well imagine how illness might be compounded by long residing in so busy a place.

"I hope she will come soon, in that case," she offered when Sally, at last, paused for breath. "I should like to know her."

Sally's eyes twinkled at this, and Mary wondered if she had somehow betrayed more than she meant to with this sentence.

"Do you dance, Mary? I know you did not do much of it at the assembly, but I remain convinced that is because your heart is too great and you could not be persuaded to abandon my poor brother."

"Actually, it was more that he gave me the opportunity to avoid it," Mary admitted, smiling shyly. "I am no great dancer."

Sally's smile fell, and Mary hastened to make up for the misstep. "But I am fond of music. I enjoy listening to it and - and playing."

"You play?" Sally cried, grasping her hand. "Oh, but of course you do. I can just imagine it." She glanced towards the large piano that dominated one corner of the Lucas parlour. "And you will play this evening, I hope?"

"Oh -" Mary stammered, recalling how eagerly she had looked forward to doing just that and wondering, now, whether she could quite summon the nerve. It was one thing to play for friends and strangers and quite another to play for those who were not yet friends - but that she longed to win over.

"Do say you will! My brother is very fond of music but I am afraid neither I nor Joanna plays very well at all. He tired rather quickly of our attempts to amuse him. If you play, however, he is sure to love you completely, if he does not already."

Mary blushed, shaking her head at Sally's teasing, and paused only when she saw Mr Egerton himself walking carefully towards them, one hand tracing a line along the wall and the other reliant on his cane, and the foresight of others, to clear any obstacles from his path.

"Sally," he barked. There was no other word to describe the harsh tone of his voice.

"I am here!" she replied, leaping immediately to her feet and finding her way to his side. "Come and sit down, Sidney. I am with Miss Mary Bennet, so you know you shall be in good company."

"Alas, no," Mr Egerton said. "We must make our apologies to Sir William and return home at once." He turned to Mary, somehow sensing precisely where she would be, his expression one of bitter regret. "I am very sorry, Miss Mary, but we cannot stay here any longer. Mr Darcy has already gone to summon our carriage."

With an apologetic wave, Sally shouldered the burden of her brother and helped him to the door, taking all of Mary's burgeoning happiness with her.